


Forever Connected

by Chickzilla18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Eventual Romance, Fighting, Gay, Hogwarts, Hormones, M/M, Seduction, Torture, Umbridge - Freeform, gossiping, voldemort - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 13:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16176137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chickzilla18/pseuds/Chickzilla18
Summary: There was only a small change.Something that shouldn't even be counted as anything really.But it meant the world to Harry and Ron.Now they are caught together to suffer threw pain, heartache, love, and the inevitable loss of each other.It raises the question...Can they keep each other safe?Or will they both die?HarryxRonHarry is the uke





	1. Chapter 1

The night was restless. It was almost impossible for Harry to get any sleep. He was plagued with nightmares and night terrors that left him sweaty and damn near screaming when he woke. Images of Cedric dying in front of his eyes, of Voldemort, of the cold and empty eyes as Serius Black was hit with the death curse.

Of his parents dying.

He gave up on sleeping around 1 in the morning. Heading over to his owl, who had been squaking and staring at Harry's previous umconcious form.

He sighed as he opened the birds cage, allowing him to step on his arm so he could pull him out and he could stand on the desk in his room.

He gazed down at the pretty white owl, grey specks dancing along his feathers.

Harry pet his wing, "least I have you with me, friend." At least he wasn't completely alone, Hedwig had always given him company. It was a relief from the years and years of being alone in this house, of being hurt over and over with no one there to witness or understand.

He typically kept his suffering to himself, but it was nice that at least one living thing knew what really went on in his life.

He got the raisin bread out from his desk drawer and pulled out a peice, holding it up for the owl to take. Raisin bread was Hedwig favorite, and because he's not often allowed to go to the store, let alone out of the house, he had to use the bread wisely. He wouldn't dare eat Hedwig favorite food.

And sometimes his only food.

“Harry potter!” Mr. Dursels booming voice sounded up the stairs, and Harry dropped the piece of raisin bread he was holding.

He quickly put Hedwig back in his cage, knowing it upset his uncle whenever he was out and didn't want to risk his Unkle hurting the bird, and rushed to sit back in his bed, quietly waiting for his over weight Uncle to unlock his door.

It was thrown open to reveal his uncles giant pink angry face, “Get up!” the ugly man spat.

Knowing full well that it was always best to do exactly what his uncle said, he got up and stood in the center of the room, up strait with his hands down and in full view. He was 15 years old, and it was the summer before the next year in Hogworts. His birthday would be next week, which was also the day he would leave for school. His body was built, muscle pressing threw the faded pajamas, raven hair unruly no matter how much he brushed or tried to tame it.

“You.” the muggle said threateningly, “I know it was you who hid the remote. I’ve searched everywhere, high and low!” he poked the boy in the chest, “Now you bloody freak, whatever trick your playing on me you better drop it right now, or I swear you won’t have not one meal for a week!” spit sprayed all over Harry as the man spoke inches from his face.

“Uncle, I swear I didn’t do anything with the remote.” He wasn’t even allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts, and he would never abuse the rules just to prank his uncle. He was better than that.

“Liar!” The big man backhanded Harry, sending him to the ground as his glasses went across the room, he heard them crack against the wall. He seriously needed to invest in some less fragile ones.

"Did you check under the couch?" He asked, knowing full well the answer was probably no, his Unkle was too thick and burly to even get done the floor. He wouldn't have checked purely from lack of patience.

Stinging pain scattered across his cheek bone where his surprisingly strong uncle hit him and his grunted a little at the feel of it, but he got up again quickly. He put himself in his previous position and faced his uncle, pushing the pain back to the darkest corner of his mind to focus on the muggle.

The elder poked him in the chest again, a little harder this time. “I will ask you again.” He said, his voice dropping to a normal level, almost sounding kind. 

But he didn’t fool Harry, he knew that the decietful calm in his voice only meant something familiar and very bad was about to happen.

He wouldn’t let his uncle see his fear.

“Where is the TV remote?”

“I don’t know, sir.” Harry wasn’t at all surprised when a fist connected with his cheek at his response, nor was he surprised at the sheer strength his uncle possessed.

It was familiar, he’s learned through past experiences his uncles strength. For an over weighted, constipated couch potato, the man had a monstrous strength that Harry couldn’t hope to over power.

Harry was dizzy as the force of the hit sent him crashing into his closet, only to hit his head against the door. Dizziness invaded him and a ringing in his ears was present.

But the attack didn’t stop there, as soon as the fallowing smacking noise finished reverberating throughout the room, his uncle struck a hammer fist down on Harry’s exposed back.

The force of the hit winded the boy as he was sent to his hands and knees, gasping for air.

Distantly, Harry was aware of Hedwig making noise and flapping his wings against the cage, angered at the sight of the muggle abusing his master. But there wasn’t much Harry could do about the noise he was making when his uncle hovered over him and brought down punch after slap against Harry’s back. Beating the ever loving crap out of him as something wet and warm dripped down from the side of his head.

After a minute of his uncle letting out his rage on the boy, he stood up strait and caught his breath, the lack of excersize and healthy meals fatiguing the fat man.

He left Harry with one last kick to the stomach before locking the door once he was out to keep Harry in.

As if on cue, Harry heard a noise from across the room as he tried to get up and collect himself, he felt pain all around him. In his head, in his stomach, behind his eyes. His whole body stung, but he got up, nothing was broken so he would get over it soon. He looked over to the window to see a bleary mop of red hair peaking in.

“Ron?” he said quietly, not really able to see but who else had red hair and would come to his window at night?

“Bloody Hell, Harry.” His friend said, Harry was silent hoping he had only just come and he hadn’t witnessed the scene that just happened, “Your glasses are on the ground to your right, pick’em up and pack your things.”

Oh crap.

Ron was pissed.

Harry nodded, quickly doing as the red head told him, his voice had seemed stern and Harry didn’t think there was any room to argue with the angry sounding red head.

His glasses were cracked but they didn’t interfear with his coordination around the room as he gathered his things and put them in his suit case.

Once he was ready, Ronald motioned for his brothers to accelerate and they pulled the bars off Harry’s window.

Acting quickly once the window was broken, Harry threw his suit case into the trunk and shut it. Grabbing his owl and handing it to Ron, he stepped up on the window cill, ignoring the fallowing pain in his limbs. He could already hear his Unkle screaming and unlocking the bolts to his room, the sound from the bars being ripped off had not gone unnoticed.

His uncle threw the door open, cursing and running up to grab at Harry, ready to start a new round of beatings. Harry’s eyes flew wide through his broken glasses and he started kicking out his leg to brake off his uncle hold. He knew that if his uncle won and got him back into his room, he’d be a beaten goner.

Ron wasn’t about to let that happen though, and he held tight to Harry as his brothers pulled the car forward, his gripped strong and painful around Harry's middle. His Unkle clawed at his legs, the thin material from his pants not doing much to protect him from his sharp ragged nails.

He eventually let go, not from consent but from simply losing his grip, not wanting to fall threw the window like last time. His wife pulled him back while he screamed in rage as he watched the car speed off into the night, turning invisible a minute later.

Harry and Ron sat in the back, panting for a minute before they looked down and realized the red head still had a hold on the other and Harry still had a Kong fu grip on his arms. They silently let go as the adrenaline released, fingers aching from the tight grip they had on each other.

Quickly braking the silence as adrenaline and shock wore off of how difficult it had been to get Harry away from the house, Ron spoke up, a little louder than nessesary.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” Ron’s wide eyes landed on his friend, the previous awkward moment completely forgotten between the two as the red heads anger was made known, “We come over here thinking we’d just have to save you from a borderline abusing control freak, and I blooding find him beating the bloody hell out of you?!"

Harry tried to speak but Ron wasn't finished with his outburst.

"With bars on your bloody windows, and him bloody starving you, not to mention the fact that there are bloody bolted locks on your bloody door! Which, by the way was also bloody!” Ron panted, his red face from anger.

Harry’s reaction to the outburst was almost comical as he stared at the boy with half amusement and half nervousness. He said nothing at first, even when he noted that Ron looked as if he was expecting some sort of explanation.

“Um, was there a question in that?” he finally said quietly, hoping not to arouse another angry outburst.

His brothers at the front looked at each other seriously, wanting to say something, but figured that it wasn’t their place to cut into this sort of conversation between the two best friends. It was their business right now, they would attempt at a conversation with Harry later but right now, he was all Ron's.

“When was the last time you ate?” Ron’s accusing but less furious question took Harry off guard.

“Uh,” He wondered if he should keep the truth hidden a little.

But Ron knew him too well, recognised the look on Harry's face, knew he was about to cover it up somehow.

“And don’t you dare lie to me. ‘Cause bloody hell Harry I know you better than anyone and I can tell when you’re lying.” the fire in his eyes matched his hair, the bright blue burning bright as he looked into Harry's green ones, daring him to try to lie.

Harry sighed, it didn’t help much that he was the worst liar in all wizard history as well. “Three days.” He said softly. Watching the emotions change in Ron.

Ron made a small strange anguished sound and looked down at his feet angrily, “I’ve never said bloody hell so many times in less than two minutes in my life, but damn, here I go again, Harry. Bloody hell!”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” It was true, he knew that to anyone else, it must have looked brutal. But to harry, it was a normal accordance that he’d grown accustomed to. He’d even been through worse.

Ron sighed, not sure what to do. He knew the Dursleys were mean to him, but Harry had never let on that his uncle actually beat and starved him like this. The red head felt he should kidnap Harry and make him permanently live with him and his family, but that would leave the boy unprotected from Voldemort.

He felt frantic enough to still have it done, but he knew Harry would never accept it. That damn fear of his of losing anyone else close to him will be his death some day.

They were already half way home, and the silence continued on for the rest of the drive as Ron tried and failed to get over what he saw at the Dursel house. Thoughts and questions ran through Ron’s head. Each one making him more and more afraid of the answer, he almost didn’t want to ask. He didn't know what to do. Should he tell his mom and let her tell him what he should do? She always had the right answer and seemed to know what to do in times like these. Should he tell Hermione? They were all close friends, Ron thought she should know about this. But he also didn't want to tell her, the panic he felt, the helplessness he felt after seeing such a display, he couldn't possibly push it on her.

What was he supposed to do? Let Harry get beaten? Let him starve? Turn the other cheek as his best friend suffered?

Hell no.

He would do something.

The red head looked over at Harry, quickly looking away when he spotted the large purple and blue bruise forming on the side of his face. But something had caught his eye, reflecting in the window.

Ron sighed and listed his shirt. It was a long drive to their house and he couldn't let his mom see Harry in such a condition.

The shirt was lifted over his head, and Harry looked over wondering what he was doing.

Ron wet a spot with some water that his brother handed him and scooted over to Harry.

"Turn your face." He commanded.

Harry looked at him confused, but he did what he was told.

"Ouch." He flinched back when he felt Ron press the damp shirt to his bloody forehead.

Ron ignored him, gripping his chin with the other hand and holding him steady as he gently dabbed at the cut above the ravens eye. The blood collected and seeped into the wetness of the clothes, and Ron stared at it in concentration. There was barely any light but he knew that there was a sizable bump there. He would need his father to look at it when they got home.

“I always knew you had a high pain tolerance, but I never knew it was because of that.” Ron said dejectedly as he cleaned the wound.

“It’s not as painful as it looks.” Harry tried, he hadn't even known he was bleeding. But he thought back, it must have happened when he hit his head against the closet door. It was ragedy and old, chipped and splintered with age.

Ron looked at him like he was insane. However he didn’t say anything, knowing full well that Harry has been through worse and a beating from a muggle was no where near as bad as any of the things he could list off the top of his head.

Hm, things Harry’s been through, well lets count… Crucio, the killing curse, oversized poisonous snake bite, bodger braking his arm, getting attacked by a dragon, scar burning-.

“Don’t forget surviving the Dementors.” Harry said, cutting into the list that Ron was unknowingly saying out loud.

Ron looked in his eyes unamused and feeling very... Sad.

They heard the twins chuckle in the front, however Ron was the only one not smiling. Harry's face went from a pathetic attempt at a smile to a small frown as he avoided eye contact with his friend.

However that only served to make him notice Ron's bare torso.

And the smell.

The smell that he finally noticed hitting his nose.

Sweat. Pine trees, and rain.

It was... Nice.

Harry was silent after that. Letting Ron do what he wished as the male cleaned his wound and picked out a splinter. His brothers chatted a bit, and Ron bit out short answers every now any then, much too focused on Harry to give them much attention.

Harry felt bad, but it was strange. If anyone else tried to tend to his wounds other than the doctor at Hogworts or maybe Mrs. Weasley, he would have refused any and all contact. Even from Hermione.

But Ron, he had caught him off guard.

Even now as the boy examined his wounds, making him take of his shirt so he could examine the bruises left by his uncle, he didn't feel the urge to resist.

He guessed Ron was just the only exception. No body else would ever be allowed to tend to him this way.

He didn't understand why, but he wasn't about to argue with his subconscious. If something inside him was okay with this then fine. He wouldn't fight it.

It wasn't for another 30 minutes or so that they made it to the Weasley's home. Ron didn't bother putting his soiled shirt back on, but Harry put his one. Wanting to cover up the bruises from sight.

Nobody else needed to see them.

The boys all walked quietly into the home, greeting the brown owl who hawked at them as they entered.

Everything was going smoothly, now all they had to do was quietly sneak back into their rooms before-

“RONALD WEEZLY.” The booming voice of their mother called out.

All four boys cringed.

-Before exactly that happened.

The red head mother walked into the living room angrily and put her hands on her hips, glaring at her three sons. “Where have you been? How many times do I have to tell you not to take the car in the middle of the night without a note or a goodbye?” She waved her hand in the air, causing the three brothers to flinch.

Ron spoke up, “We had to get Harry mom, they were starving him.” he said quickly, pointing at a very uncomfortable looking Harry. He was grateful Ron didn’t mention anything about the beatings.

"Your lucky I don't starve you three." Harry was hit with deja vu. "Now march up to your rooms and Ron, you help Harry with his bag while I get him something to eat. He will be sleeping in your room."

"Yes. Mom." He said as he dragged Harry's suitcase up the stairs to his room, glad his friend would be eating soon.

Mrs. Weasley gave Harry a kind smile, offering a hug as she greated him. "Hello Harry, so good to see you. We always love having you around."

"Thank you Mrs Weasley." He said as he took the hug before she lead him to the kitchen.

Harry opened up Hedwigs cage, allowing the bird to step out and fly up to the top of the Grandfather clock in the living room. Harry smiled as he watched the bird fly, stretching it's wings and enjoying flight.

"How does chicken soup work for you Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked politely, even though she knew Harry would not be picky.

"Sounds great Mrs. Weasley."

It only took a few minutes after the mother had the chicken cooked, the time bite sized peices taking up little time. She had a bowl of steaming broth in front of him in no time.

"Here you are dear, that will get you your energy back." She pat his head as her husband walked in, his robe tied as he yawned loudly.

"What is Ron doing in the kitchen so early?" The sleepy man asked, not even half way awake at this our.

Mrs. Weasley wacked him with a cooking spoon, "it's not Ron you twat, say hello to Harry."

He yawned again, "Harry? Oh hello, Harry!" He said, patting the boy on the back as he sipped from his mug of soup. The heat radiated off the mug, warming him. The warmth in his palms almost burned but was relaxing.

"You must be tired Harry, it's three thirty in the morning, so as soon as your done with your soup you can just set it in the sink and go off to bed." Mrs. Weasley said, cleaning up the small mess she made in the kitchen.

"Yes ma'am."

Mr. Weasley yawned once again, "I'm going back to bed, I'll see you in a few hours Harry."

"Goodnight sir."

"I'm gonna fallow him Harry, Goodnight." The woman said, fallowing her husband up the stairs.

It didn't take long for Harry to finish, and despite Mrs. Weasley saying he could just go streight to bed, he decided he would wash it. Putting the clean dish away with the others in the covered after drying it.

Hedwig would be okay outside his cage for the rest of the night, he was a good owl, and knew where to take care of his business.

There were so many steps in the house going up to Ron's room. Each agonising step took effort in his beaten state. Every sore muscle was made known as Harry came to realise just how bad the beating was.

Still not the worst he's endured however, there was one time that his uncle actually fractured his arm after gripping him too hard a few years ago. And another time that he dislocated his shoulder from being yanked too much. There was one time he was thrown into a glass cabinet.

His aunt Petunia had actually taken pitty on him that time and half assed taking care of the bloody mess that became of Harry Potter. It took an hour for her to pick out all the glass, but she actually disinfected and bandaged him before making him clean up all the mess while they went out on a date. That was the one and only kindness he could remember receiving from her. She probably did it because she didn't want him dripping blood everywhere, but it was still appreciated. And Harry had shocked her by expressing his gratitude at that young age of 9.

That was the last time his uncle had thrown him, he guessed she had complained to him about the effort and inconvenience of helping him, along with the loss of the expensive glass cabinet, and had forbid him from throwing him into anything glass again.

Harry was still greatful to her for that, even if she did it for selfish reasons.

He finally made it up to Ron's room, sighing in relief and opening the door.

Ron was still up, apparently just getting out of the shower. He regarded Harry with a slightly concerned look, a towel wrapped around his waist as he pushed his red bangs out of his eyes. "You should rinse off Harry, get the blood out of your hair. The hot water will help the stress too."

Harry nodded, fallowing Ron into the bathroom.

He got him some a towel, and Harry picked out some clean clothes to sleep in, greatful for a chance to wash off the sweat and blood from his body in the heat of the water.

20 minutes later, Harry was dressed and walking over to the separate bed the family had put when Harry spending so much time here became a habit. He lay down under the covers, the chill from the air blocked out by the thick sheets.

He sighed. Not at all tired. He felt that if he shut his eyes, they would pop open a few seconds later. As if he needed to keep up the pressure to keep them down. It was irritating, but familiar. He had gotten used to the insomnia by now, but he envied people in coma's.

He was restless, awake. If only he could just go for a run outside and release some of the stress, maybe he could get some sleep.

He was glad he would be starting school soon, school meant hard work, hard work meant exhaustion. Which meant he would be able to sleep more instead of laying awake every night hoping he doesn't have another nightmare.

It was cruel really, how his body refused to allow him peace. His tortured mind refused to allow rest so his body was constantly on over drive. It was never bedtime for his body, never rest time, no breaks. It was always daytime to him, time to move, time to run, time to worry about Voldemort and if he is targeting anyone close to him.

The stress was getting to him, he couldn't find a release.

Perhaps now that he's with people he cares about he'll feel safer.

But somehow that would only make him even more tense.

Voldemort was after him. He wanted Harry to suffer to his last breath. He would harm anyone close to him if he thought it would make him writhe in all sorts of pain.

Harry sighed quietly again. But that's when he heard shuffling on the other side of the room.

"Harry?" Ron asked, voice gravely as if he just woke up.

"Hm." Was his only response to the red head.

"Why aren't you asleep? You lay down an hour ago."

Has it been that long already? And he still didn't feel tired at all.

"Does it hurt that bad?" Ron asked, referring to the bruises all along his body. Thinking that was the reason for his friends restlessness.

Harry shook his head, "no Ron the bath helped, it doesn't hurt anymore." It wasn't a complete lie. It still hurt just not as badly, and it wasn't the reason for his restless state.

Ron sat up and walked over. He wasn't an idiot, he knew that if it wasn't the physical pain that was keeping Harry up, then it was something else; a different pain that ran deeper than the flesh.

Harry was stressing about something, Ron could see that, clearer than he could see the green in his friends eyes.

He sat on the ravens bed near his covered hip and looked down at the boy, an arm was slung over his face, probably an attempt to keep his eyes from sight so Ron couldn't read him.

But Ron knew him very well. All he had to do was speak.

"Is it the nightmares again?" He knew from nights in Hogworts when Harry would suddenly wake up in a panic, unaware of the redhead who was often awake in the middle of the night too and watching him, that Harry would often get terrible nightmares.

He had never really talked to Harry about them, knowing Harry liked to keep things to himself. But Ron could see bags under the males pretty green eyes, the lack of sleep becoming physically unhealthy. It was a discussion that would have turned up eventually, it wouldn't hurt to bring it up now before school starts.

Harry looked at Ron, unexpecting him to know about them. He had only ever seen Ron bust him in a nightmare that one time when he awoke because Voldemort was trying to contact him. He didn't know he knew about the reacurring ones that were only there because of his own mind.

"Yes." He said without realizing it. "How did you know?"

Ron grinned and rolled his eyes, "Harry, your not the only one who is awake at night sometimes. I see you toss and turn at night."

Harry was silent for a minute, not sure how to accempt that Ron knew about the nightmares. He would have much more preferred to keep them a secret.

"Harry it's fine." Ron said as soon as the shame crossed Harry's eyes, "we all get nightmares sometimes."

Harry still didn't say anything.

Until Ron finally rolled his eyes, but he would be patient. "Okay you don't want to talk about it. But you can at least let me help you sleep."

Harry looked up at him in confusion, how could he do that?

At the confused twitch in his eye brow, Ron lay down next to Harry, sliding under the covers with him. "Gimmi your hand." He said.

It wasn't the first time that they had shared a bed, but for some reason this time felt more... He didn't know, strange? But not particularly unpleasant. Ron was warm, and he smelt nice, his face only a few inches away. He wasn't uncomfortably close, just far enough for it to not be too weird. But something still felt odd, different then the other times they had shared a bed.

He lifted his right hand and put it in Ron's, the red head then held Harry's hand in both of his.

"Do you trust me?" Ron asked.

Why would he ask that? What was he going to do? Never the less, he absolutely trusted Ron with everything.

He nodded.

Ron grinned and that's when a strange energy started traveling up his arm from their connected hands.

It was warm, sort of tingly and it started radiating threwout his body.

It felt good. Soothing.

"How are you doing that?" He asked curiously.

Ron spoke softly, already starting to drift between conciousness and sleep. "My dad taught me, it's something he used to do for my mom whenever she had nightmares. It's not a spell, it's just like an extension of my body that I just, push to you. Only certain people can do it."

Harry was already getting tired, eye lids heavy as his body started to relax.

"It's nice." He said, the warmth damn near hypnotic.

Ron hummed, about to pass out.

Even when the red head was asleep again, Harry still felt that odd tingle and it made him sleepier and sleepier until finally he just... Slept.


	2. Chapter 2

It's the next morning, and the sun is starting to shine in from the window in Ron's room. The warmth of the Ray's chased away the cold as it danced across the exposed skin of Harry and Ron, who slept peacefully in the same position they fell asleep in.

When the light hit Ron's eyes, he woke, Harry was the first thing he saw. Their hands were still entangled and the tingling hadn't stopped. This was the first time Ron had seen Harry sleep so peacefully, so undisturbed. It would be a shame if he awoke, so Ron stayed put, keeping his hands where they were.

He watched him, ignoring how creepy it was. He didn't care anymore, he watched Harry sleep a lot and it was no longer an unatrual guilty pleasure.

That doesn't mean he would ever let Harry find out though.

He wasn't sure why he liked it, though he suspected it was probably the gay part of his bisexuality. He couldn't help but notice how cute Harry was, and enjoyed looking at him.

He wondered if Harry knew that he was half gay.

If Harry didn't, would he mind? Would he feel uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed if he knew? Would he refuse the contact that he already _barely_ allows?

He didn't know. But he hoped when Harry did find out, he would accept it.

Honestly, he had no doubt his friend would.

It wasn't a secret either, his sexuality that is. If Harry happened to figure it out, then Ron wouldn't deny it. But he wasn't going make finding out as easy as just _telling_ him.

This was one of the rare times that Harry was sleeping soundlessly, his eyes were not scrunched up in fear, his teeth were not clenching at something unseen, Harry was not gripping the sheets in loss of self control.

He was calm.

The stress lines in his face were barely noticeable, and his face was blank. His hair spiked up in all different directions, ever the unruly mess of black hair.

He was _cute_.

Not that Ron particularly had a crush on him, he just apreciated the way he looked, to him Harry was the embodiment of what Ron found attractive.

If Ron had a type, it would be Harry.

It wasn't for a few more minutes when Ron felt Harry stir.

"Morning sunshine." He said sarcastically.

Harry shut his eyes again and breathed out. "Shut up."

Ron noticed the raven hadn't moved to take back his hand, and he pretended not to notice either. Chosing instead to leave his hand there, he was still doing the power on Harry and neither of them felt like getting up at the moment. It wasn't even 8am yet; they had a few more minutes to rest.

Harry suprised Ron when he spoke.

"Uh, thank you, for you know," he spoke awkwardly and shook their connected hands a little, "last night, I don't think I've ever slept that good."

Ron grinned sleepily, eyes barely open as he replied, "no problem, mate. Anytime."

Their silence was short lived when Ron's mother called up the stairs.

"Boys! It's time for breakfast."

Her echoing voice was loud enough for both of them to hear, and they groaned, knowing that their time in bed was over. They would have to leave the warm comfort of their soft sheets and pillow to get up and ready for what was to hopefully be a good day. Today was the last day at home, they were to get on the train early in the morning to settle in their dorms and receive their schedules. They would be starting school the next day.

Today was Harry's birthday, and he knew that his family had a party planned for later, so he had already invited Hermione the day before, and she would be here later this afternoon.

Ron grunted one more time, removing his hand from Harry's and feeling a loss for some reason. He got up out of bed and removed his shirt, throwing it on his bed, and heading over to his dresser.

Harry got up shortly after the redhead, throwing his own shirt back in his suitcase and proceeding to dig for another one. They each took turns brushing their teeth and hair before heading downstairs, where they were treated my Ronald's mom.

"Good morning boys," she smiled sweetly and gave them each their own hug. Harry gladly accepted his, loving it when he got a hug from the woman. Mrs Weezley treated him like one of her own, and it was refreshing to Harry. His aunt Petunia never showed him much affection, but he stopped wanting it shortly after his uncle started hitting him.

"Come along boys, Harry you must be hungry, I cooked a big breakfast for the family, go on sit down." She showed him over to the table, and she wasn't exaggerating, the table was filled with food. The twins and Ginny were already filling their plates and stuffing their faces with food.

Mr Weezley was reading the paper in one hand and chewing on some bacon with the other hand, eyes completely focused on the daily news.

Harry sat down next to Ron and started piling some eggs, bacon, and a couple pancakes on his plate. He didn't realize how hungry he was until the food was sitting right in front of him on his own plate. He didn't bother with butter or anything, he was too hungry, so he just started eating that way.

Ron watched Harry eat in satisfaction, happy that his friend would have food in his stomach from now on. He didn't know what he was going to do at the end of the year when they all had to go home, but he was _not_ going to let Harry suffer at the Dursley's anymore. He didn't care how he had to threaten the family, they would not mistreat Harry ever again.

Harry hummed at the delicious taste of his food, the dry pancakes like clouds melting in his mouth. The food sat like a comforting pillow in his stomach and the heat from his hot breakfast tea soothed his throat.

Soon all their plates were empty and there was hardly any food left on the table. Everyone's tummy was full and they all helped Mrs. Weezley with cleaning up the mess.

Dishes piled in the sink as Mr. Weezley put away all the uneaten food in the cooler.

Harry's stomach was so full, it was the best feeling ever, being satisfied with a meal. He hadn't felt that way in months, and along with the good night sleep he had thanks to Ron, he was the most refreshed he had been in a long time.

Harry helped Mrs. Weezley with the dishes while everyone else went outside to play games.

Ron stayed inside however, watching Harry from the dining table as his father sat next to him.

"Harry seems to have had a good night sleep last night, that's good." He opened his paper back up and started reading. "That boy really should be getting more sleep then he does."

Ron looked at his dad from the corner of his eyes, "yeah, he slept really good last night, I did that thing you taught me on him."

Mr. Weezley put his paper down roughly at this, looking at wrong as if he had done something surprising.

"You did _what_ to him?" He asked in a whisper, looking over at Harry.

"Yeah?" Ron said unsurely. What was the problem with that? His dad was acting like Ron had poisoned Harry's food or something.

Ron's father brushed his hair back nervously, leaning forward in his chair so he didn't have to talk too loudly. "Ron when I taught you that, I thought you would only use it on people you loved in a romantic way."

Ron's eye brows rose, "why what's wrong with using it on Harry? Like you said, he needs more sleep then he gets, and I was only trying to help him." He spoke quietly as well, not sure why it was wrong but trusting his dad that they didn't want anyone else hearing their conversation.

"I understand that son, and your good for it. But that trick is purly meant for a significant other, because that power doesn't just soothe or comfort. Its not just an extension of your self; like your wond choses it's wizard, this power choses your mate."

Ron paled, "what?!" He shouted in a whisper. "Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"I didn't know you would use it on Harry," he said defensively. "I was sure you would use it on Hermione, or another girl." He couldn't believe he allowed his son to do this, he should have told him before. "The power is meant to make martial relationships stronger. So you using it on someone like Harry multiple times, it will basically become the same as the effect intercourse has on relationships. It will eventually start to bring y'all closer together in _that_ way."

He sighed, looking at his son's green eyes, "it's okay, nothing should happen, as long as you don't do it again, I'm sure it will be fine. The power does chose, but it doesn't chose imediatly, so long as you don't do it again, nothing will happen between you two." He repeated the last part to emphasize how serious he was and went back to his paper, the conversation over.

Ron looked over at Harry, feeling terrible. He had no idea using that power would do that to them. He loved Harry, and would always love Harry, but not in that way. What if he continued doing it and Harry's feeling for him changed into that? What if Ron could never feel that way about him?

Harry has suffered enough, he didn't need this power manipulating his feelings. He had been through enough heartbreak in his life already, and the last thing Ron wanted to do was add another one.

He shouldn't do that trick on him anymore.

Ever.

...

" _Happy birthday dear Harry, happy birthday to you_." The whole Weezley family, plus Hermione sang as the Weezley mother put a giant blue cake with lit candles in front of a smiling Harry. They handed him a knife and after blowing out the candles, he cut everyone a slice. He had the biggest smile on his face as Ginny took dozens of pictures of him with each of his friends.

The bubbling happiness Harry felt shined threw the light in his blue eyes, enough to put love and joy into the hearts of those around him. Such happiness from someone with such a hard life gave them all hope. And It gave them the _need_ to keep that happiness there, someone like Harry would surely go completely insane without the love his friends give him. Harry was sure that without the people standing around him, and the teachers at Hogwarts, he would have gone mad long ago.

Harry opened his gifts, even though he told everyone that all he wanted for his birthday was them all to celebrate it with him, that he didn't need gifts. But they stubbornly got him something, a present from each of them.

Harry was greatful, their kindness made him feel stronger, braver, happier. It was these charishable moments, where he was surrounded by friends and people who loved him, that Harry felt the most at peace.

Hermione stayed the night, sleeping in Ginni's room with her suitcase downstairs next to everyone else's, ready to be loaded in the car.

It was completely dark in the house, no noise or light disturbed the peaceful quiet.

Except for in Harry and Ron's room.

It was already three hours into the night, and Harry was tossing and turning, in the middle of a nightmare. He was sweating, and his hands clenched and unclenched against the matress. His body spasmed and his eyes clenched shut, dreaming of Voldemort and the dementors, of Hermione and Ron suffering at the hands of Beatrix, of his parents dying and and the people at school being killed.

Ghosts and magic flew in every direction behind his eyes, and it was more then he could take.

He could see Voldemort, his eyes, that evil smile. But it wasn't directed at him, he watched as the demon picked off everyone he cared about one by one, while he was screaming and chained to something unseen.

That's when he woke up thrashing with a terrified yelp.

He panted harshly looking around him in fright. It didn't register at first where he was, and the fear he felt from the dream hadn't worn off yet.

It wasn't until he saw Ron looking at him from his own bed that he finally stopped panicing. Those green eyes watching him, safe and sound, was enough to help him get his breathing under control.

It didn't look like he would be sleeping tonight anymore.

Ron got up and went over to Harry's bed silently, and Harry quickly lay back down and turned away, embarrassed that Ron could see him so scared. He made sure his back was to Ron and buried his face in his pillow, fighting the tears that threatened to fall until they went away.

He knew without needing to look that Ron was watching him carefully, and Harry pretended to be asleep, but he could already tell that his body was too stiff to be convincing.

Ron sighed, getting into bed with Harry for the second night in a row, and faced him. He couldn't see Harry's face, but he knew the boy was still awake by the way he trembled. The amount of distance between them was so big it was as if Harry was purposely trying to be as far away as possible. Why though? Why was he so afraid of Ron seeing him vulnerable like this?

Ron thought about what his dad told him earlier about the power; that if he continued to use it, they would eventually become lovers.

He looked at the terrified and restless form of his best friend, and sighed.

He didn't need to think about it.

He would do anything for his friend.

He slowly reached a hand up and slid his palm between Harry's shoulder blades. _His body is so tense_ , he thought, spreading his fingers out and focusing that soothing energy to the raven.

One more time wouldn't hurt right?

The effect was imediate, as if Harry had been holding his breath, he let it out all at once. His body relaxed and his eyes slit open, a dazed expression making its way to his face. The tingling sensation was back, this time spreading out from Ron's fingertips all along his back and around his chest. There was a comfortable burning in the center of his chest that wasn't there before, but the feeling made it all the more relaxing. It was like he was finally able to breathe after drowning for years unend.

"Thank you." He said to the redhead behind him, unconously leaning into the other boys touch.

Ron's eyes never left the back of Harry's head, he felt terrible about what he was doing, but he needed Harry to have peace. He needed it more then he needed to breathe, he wanted to help Harry like Harry had help all of them.

Harry helped everyone he could and asked for nothing in return. He wasn't materialistic, and felt it unessesary to ask for things every time he saves people.

Peace was all Harry would ever dare ask for, and by golly Ron was going to help him acheive it no matter what it took.

Harry was already asleep, but Ron kept his hand resting on his back, scooting closer to make holding it there more comfortable. Ron ended up only a few inches away from Harry's back, any closer and he would be spooning him. He ignored how close he was to his friend, they had done weirder things, and this proximity didn't bother him.

Ron could smell Harry from where he lay, the boy was still a little sweaty from his dream, and Ron could still smell the shampoo in his hair.

He smelled really nice.

Without really thinking, he inches his face slightly closer and breathed him in, falling asleep a few minutes later.


	3. Chapter 3

The 'toot' of the train coming to a stop was still one of the loudest sounds Harry had ever heard in his life. Not even his Aunt Petunia's loud, obnoxious screaming, could even come close to matching how ear peircing the train was. He grunted, along with Hermione and Ron, who sat in the seats next and in front of him as usual. They each held their ears and winced as the train slowed to a stop, the loud screach of the metal tires scraping against the tracks was the worst noise they had ever heard.

"Bloody hell. When I grow up, I'm outlawing trains as proper transportation." He sounded so irritated and sure of himself that Harry and Hermione could only agree.

They were already dressed in their robes and were gathering their things from the compartments above their heads. Students were already making their way down the hallway and out of the train, in a hurry to get off.

First years were obvious to find, being much smaller then everyone else. It was hard to believe that Harry, Ron and Hermione were ever that small. Looking at the freshman now that they are all seventeen, they couldn't believe that time passed by so quickly. It was odd thinking that they too were once so small, that they too were once the first years, with the upper class men likely looking at them with the same odd feeling.

They gathered their things and opened the door leading out to the flurry of students making their way out. One student stopped to allow them to join the traffic, and the trio thanked the unfamiliar freshman as they made their way into the line.

Harry was excited, overjoyed even, to be back at Hogwarts. It was here, and in Ron's home, that he felt the most like he belonged. He belonged no where else. He smiled peacefully up at the early afternoon sky, loving the familiarity the smell of oak and leaves braught. If magic had a special smell, it would be Hogwarts.

"Welcome back everyone!" Hagrid smiled as the people who worked on the train unloaded the rest of their luggage. "And welcome to Hogwarts you first years." He greated everyone with a kind smile on his face, the same smile that he used to make Harry trust him when they first met. Despite the way Hagrid appeared with his size and bumbish attire, nobody could think ill of Hagrid charictor with such a truely honest smile like that.

Except Malfoy of course.

The platinum blonde Slytherin idiot had a cheeky smile on his face as he stared at the trio. His face showed his usual arrogant satisfaction and a threatening promise of something horrible.

Harry rolled his eyes and ignored the bully, Hermione and Ron doing the same. But they wondered what 'terrible thing' Malfoy was planning to do.

It's not that Harry hated him persay; strongly dislike and loath his behavior, is more what Harry felt in regards to the pureblood. He may be a bully and may have a father that works for Voldemort, but Draco himself wasn't all bad. Misguided and an arsehole, absolutely; he was nasty towards people, and sadistic in nature. But Harry could always tell Malfoy was unsure of himself when performing truely evil deeds, he always looked like he was struggling with an internal battle, influenced completely by his horrible father but remembering what kindness was deep in his soul.

No, Harry didn't _hate_ him.

But that doesn't mean he wouldn't beat his arse to a pulp if he had a chance.

"It is my hope that this year will be just as grand as the ones before it, if you all will come this way, we will meet Ms. McGonagall in the main entrance, and the freshman will be sorted into their houses." Hagrid waved everyone to fallow, and they did, the upperclassmen leaving their carryonbags with the luggage to be taken to their normal rooms, along with their pets.

The freshman stood in a line while the people already sorted sat down in their normal sections. Hermione, Ron and Harry sat together near the rest of their friends as normal, Neville next to Hermione.

They watched as the freshman got sorted into their houses, everyone greated the new additions to their families, even the house of Slytherin. Though everyone could tell that the house of Slytherin was welcoming the new comers with less welcoming to the _family_ , and more welcoming them to the _dark_ side.

The students of Gryffindor were different however, they all highfived the newbies with honest pleasurable greatings, with kind smiles on their faces. They were good about making the new comers feel welcome, as were the other two houses, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

When everyone was sorted, Dumbledore made an announcement.

"Welcome new comers!" His voise reaked of old age, but was still powerful and athoritive. "I am pleased to see you all here," Harry noticed that his wrinkles were more defined however, and his eyes were tired. Harry listened on in concern for Dumbledore, he never looked like that unless he was stressed out about something.

He hoped this year would be normal. Something life threatening always happened, every year, and he _always_ got involved. _Just one normal year, please Merlin_. Harry internally begged, the stress lines across Dumbledore's brow were prominent.

"My name is Professor Dumbledore, you have already met Ms. McGonagall, who sorted you into your houses." Ms. McGonagall nodded her head from her spot on the desk behind Dumbledore. "You have met Hagrid," he said, motioning to the oversized man who also nodded. "Professor Snape, our potions teacher." Snape had his normal bored expression, staring at Harry as usual. "And," Dumbledore looked as if he was uncomfortable about something, and Harry's eyes rose in confusion, "our new defense against the dark arts Teacher, Miss Umbridge."

The new teacher stood up, a sweet smile on her face as she made it obvious that she was going to speak. She had extremely short brown curly hair that was obviously not natural, Harry could almost see the tight, uncomfortable curl clips in her hair. And her outfit made her look older then what she was; she seemed to be in her fifties, but the thick, full pink wool sweater she wore with her ankle length pink skirt made her look twenty years older. She was obviously trying too hard to cover up the fact that she was short, and fat, with her matching pink hat. Also trying too hard to seem sweet and approachable, and if Harry were to be honest, she looked quite scary.

"Hello children," she gave them a kind smile that only made Harry feel trapped. "I am please to finally meat all of you," her eyes were like small circles that seemed to throw silent daggars at every student that dared make eye contact. "I am the right hand woman of the head minister of magic, and I have been sent to this school to make sure you all are being properly taught at this school, in the exact way as was intended by the counsel. I'm sure I will have a wonderful time meeting and assessing you and your teachers." She gave them all one more fake looking smile before sitting back down in her seat, streighter then a pole.

Dumbledore looked like he was ready to choke himself, but he smiled at the students one more time, "now that we all know each other, let's eat."

And then the buffet that Harry and Ron had been waiting for appeared infront of them on the table. Delicious meat, eggs, bacon, toast and more popped up right in front of their hungry faces. They each scooped up food onto their plates and poured each other juice before digging in. By the time they were each stuffing their faces with food, Hermione wasn't even half way done filling her plate. She looked on at her two best friends in disgust as they're faces became greesy and their hands dirty.

"Will you two use a napkin?" Hermione said exasperated, taking a bite of toast herself. The crunch of bread imediatly soothing her irritation, the warm butter spread across her tongue before melting with the honey wheete bread. She hummed in aproval at the texture and took another big bite, not realizing how hungry she was until right then.

Boy did she miss Hogwart meals.

Ron swallowed his food before grabbing his napkin and wiping his face, "does this make you happy princess?" He asked sarcastically as he wiped his face again.

Hermione rolled her eyes from across the table as they continued to dig in. "Quite. But don't ever call me princess." She glared at Ron threw long dirty blond lashes.

But Ron only smiled, "okay princess."

She sucked her teeth in irritation and looked at Harry for help. He looked up from his chicken and looked at Ron, "Ron, leave Hermione alone."

Ron frowned at the serious face Harry had, eyes sparkling in confusion. Did he do something wrong?

"After all, wouldn't want the princess to banish you."

Ron burst out laughing, the sound making Harry laugh just as loud, and the look on Hermione's face made them laugh even harder. Hermione looked at her two doofus's, laughing hysterically together. She couldn't keep a straight face for long and she eventually smirked and shook her head at them.

The trio had to become a duo later that day when the men and woman had to separate to visit their rooms. Their class schedule would be laying on each of their beds, and they were to memorize it by morning before class starts.

Ron threw himself into his bed and sighed, exhausted from the trip.

Harry released Hedwig from his cage, and the bird flew out onto Harry's bed frame. It hooted, and Ron smiled up at the pretty owl, the pure white feathers making to owl look more beautiful then any owl he has seen.

"Hedwig." Harry called to the owl, dropping bird feed on his desk. It was a mix of sunflower seeds, raisons, dry peaches, and peanuts.

Hedwig hooted once again and flew down to Harry's desk, starting to peck at his food. Harry also tore off a peice of regular bread for the bird to eat and set it down next to the mix. He then filled up his water bowl with clean, fresh water and set it next to the owl.

He brushed a finger down the owls neck and smiled as the bird hooted in affection.

Ron watched the raven haired wizard, the twinkle in the boys eyes as he stared down at his white owl was breathtaking. The light blue melted, and swirled in two deep pools of crystal water, framed completely by long black lashes. His face was pale white, and blemish free, asside from the few tiny beauty marks that decorated his porcelain skin.

Ron stared at Harry, unable to fathom how one could have suffered so much in their lifetime, seeing so much death and watching people suffer only to suffer himself, and yet still have a sort of _purity_ to their charictor. Harry had been threw so much, yet he was still... Harry. Still the good, innocent person he has always been. It was amazing, the strength Harry possessed, physical, mental and emotional.

Ron couldn't imagine himself possessing the same strength.

If he were Harry, he would have lost it a long time ago.

...

Steam rose up and swept across the glass mirror, making it fog up so much that Harry couldn't see his reflection. He reached a hand up and slid it over the mirror, wiping away some of the water to allow a more clear view of himself.

He had just taken a shower, and was wrapped in a towel in front of the sink. His upper half was exposed as he took deep breathes and inspected his face.

He brushed a hand threw his conditioned hair, wondering if it would do good to brush it. He supposed not, he would always get a bed Head in the morning from how much he squirms at night. He sighed and picked up his tooth brush, spreading out toothpaste on it. This was the muggle way to clean his teeth, or the "odd" way at least. Ron never understood why he did it this way, instead of just using magic. But Harry enjoyed the task of cleaning his teeth, liked the way the bristles of the brush felt scrubbing his gums.

It was a gross part of his agenda of course, brushing his teeth was never a pretty sight, but he liked doing it this way.

Of course he used magic to keep his breath from becoming disgusting at least, but he liked using his toothbrush.

He was just about to brush his hair next when Ron stepped out of the shower, drying his hair and walking around completely nude.

Harry blushed and froze, his eyes widening in shock, seeing Ron's junk wiggling around as he walked shouldn't have been so embarrassing to him.

Ron's body was built, and Harry had to say, the redhead was honestly very well endowed. He clearly wasn't modest, with the way he freely exposed himself, and didn't care if Harry saw his bits. This only made Harry blush more, but why though? It wasn't as if Harry hadn't seen this before, they had been sharing the same bathroom for years!

It was as if Harry hadn't noticed just how... Good looking Ron was until right then.

Ron made a pleased sound as he shook his hair free of the leftover water, water droplets falling down his torso. He looked up at Harry threw the reflection and noticed the blush.

His face curled in confusion as he stared at his petrified best friend, "what's wrong with you mate? Your face is really flushed. Are you feeling okay?"

Harry nodded slowly, right hand still outreached for his hair brush. _I must be sick or something_ , Harry thought.

Ron gave Harry an odd look,. Knowing imediatly something was up but unable to tell what. He was usually able to read Harry fairly well, but this time he couldn't. Was it something Ron said? Did? Did Harry even know _himself_ what the matter was?

Ron thought not.

He shrugged, "alright Harry, well, I'll see you back in the room. You want me to open you a.. uh.. soda?" His face once again curled in question. "Is that what you call those orange drinks you gave me?"

Harry nodded again, slowly, still frozen at the sight of Ron's body exposed completely just a few feet behind him. He couldn't imagine what this feeling was, or why it bothered him so much, but for some reason, seeing his friend like that... Made him feel funny.

He must be sick or something.

That's it.

He's coming down with an awful fever. That's why he was hot and flushed.

Just sick.

Or something.

Ron tilted his head, trying hard to understand what he was seeing on his friends face. It was an odd expression that he had never seen there before. "Are you sure your alright, Harry?" He asked one more time, wrapping his lower half in his towel.

Harry blinked, but Ron couldn't tell if the wetness dripping from his brow was water, or perspiration. Something flashed in Harry's blue eyes, and Ron finally got a verbal response.

"Yeah Ron, orange soda. I'd love one, thank you." He gave Ron the fakest smile he had ever seen. But Ron wasn't about to persue the issue any longer, especially if Harry himself didn't seem to understand it.

If it was truely important, and was a lasting issue that Harry couldn't handle himself, then Ron would help. But Ron knew better then to push Harry of all people.

So Ron shrugged, not seeing a battle that he could help Harry fight at the moment. "Alright then, Harry. See you in a few minutes then." He nodded goodbye and exited the bathroom, leaving Harry alone to his reflection.

He looked back at himself, shocked by his own reaction to something that should never have affected him.

Sweat was dripping down the sides of his face, conjured up by his nervous embarrassment. What was wrong with him?!

Harry wiped his face with his hands, swiping away the sweat from his forehead. He had just showered, and it wasn't even that hot in the bathroom anymore but for some reason he felt like he was slowly losing oxygen.

He was just sick.

That was all.

Just some crazy illness.

...That gave him random erections... Yeah.

 


	4. Chapter 4

It's been a few days since classes officially started, and things weren't going so well for Harry.

He hadn't slept in days, too afraid to fall asleep and have a nightmare, and too afraid to stay up reading like he normally does during the nights his insomnia decided to kill his tiredness. Taking either route would more then likely end with Ron sneaking into bed with him to help calm him down enough for him to fall asleep.

Ever since that day in the dorm bathroom, when Harry saw everything there was to know about Ron, Harry hasn't been able to look at Ron the same way. His striking green eyes always pierce right threw him, the concern and brotherly affection he would express threw his gaze would melt Harry's very being. The raven always got so nauseous when he spoke to the redhead, his stomach and chest turning in a weird way. And each day, it would get worse.

It started out small, just the uncomfortable and foriegn fluttering in his chest when he and Ron made eye contact, but then after a few days, it was like Harry couldn't be in the same room as Ron without his entire body tensing up.

It was strange.

And Harry hated that he couldn't place what it was.

Laying in bed now, with the lights out and the window allowing the pale moonlight into their shared dorm, Harry couldn't even blink an eye in the direction of sleep. He felt so tense, so restless, and he didn't understand why. It was the most irritating feeling ever, it was like his body was being pulled somewhere that his brain refused to go. He felt like he was holding himself under a big rock, but his body was trying to escape. His legs wanted to move, to get up and go somewhere, but he didn't understand anything that was going on with himself. All he could think about was Ron. Ron. Ron!

That thing he does to help him sleep sounds especially nice right then. He hadn't slept in four days! Which was conveniently normal for him, thanks to his insomnia, but Merlin, he would love to just _sleep_.

It was hard, avoiding Ron for those three days, especially because they had most of their classes together, as requested to McGonagall and Dumbledore.

Ron was his best friend, and it usually hurt to be away from him, which was normal. But now it was like it _physically_ hurt to be away from Ron... Which wasn't so normal. He felt as though he was losing his mind.

For the last few days, Harry had been avoiding Ron as best he could. Because every time Ron would be in his sights, Harry would suddenly feel like his heart would drop out of his body.

Was this because he had seen him naked? It couldn't be, he had seen Ron naked pleanty of times before, he couldn't imagine that actually being the reason. No, the nausea he felt whenever Ron was present wasn't because of that.

He was just sick or something.

Yeah.

...

Ron sighed as he set his books down on his desk, the defense against the dark arts was the only class he didn't have with Harry. But at least he had it with Hermione, as well as six other of his eight classes.

Hermione imediatly noticed Ron was down about something, had even noticed long ago that something was wrong with he and Harry. But she had waited for them to talk to her long enough, it was time for her to poke at it a little for answers.

"Ron, what's wrong with you and Harry?" She asked, her voice full of concern as she looked at the sad redhead.

"I don't know myself" he said, his eyes not looking up as he subconsciously opened his book to prepare for class, not particularly caring about it however. Ms. Umbridge, their new teacher, had a very different way of teaching them then the other teachers did. She expected them to learn about magic, without the actual use of magic. Which made zero sense to everyone, but Ms. Umbridge. "Harry's been acting strange for the last four day's, I don't know what's wrong with him!" The stress was clear in Ron's green eyes, and Hermione sighed.

"How and when did it start?" She asked him gently, curiously, opening her own book to the page marked on the chalk board in clear, neat handwriting.

Ron shrugged, "we were taking a shower, and I stepped out while he was at the sink. He saw me and he just froze, and he's been weird ever since." He told her all that he knew, though he doubted this information would be of any use to figure out the problem.

Hermione's face curled in confusion as she looked away, thinking.

Looking back at Ron suspiciously, she asked. "You mean to tell me, that your friend Harry, _our_ Harry, has been acting strange ever since he saw you step out of the shower stark naked?" She looked as if she was starting to realize something, but Ron had no idea what she could be realising.

He nodded anyways, "yeah, why?" He had been paying close attention to Harry the last few days, Harry thinks Ron doesn't know that he's not sleeping, but Ron actually does. The only reason he hasn't done anything about it, is because of what his father said about the power. He wanted to help Harry, of course, always. But he wanted to try and do the power as least often as possible, save it for when Harry has truly terrible nightmares that he can't handle.

Hermione looked down at her desk and sat back in her chair, eyes wide as she stared at nothing in particular. Ron could see the gears working in her brain, and asked what was up.

"Why, what's wrong with that?" He asked seriously.

Hermione's head shot up to look at Ron, an annoyed expression on her pretty face, and shook her head at his cluelessness. "You really do have the emotional capability of a tea spoon." She whispered to herself, not loud enough for Ron to hear.

"What was that?" The red head asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his density, and Ron's jaw dropped in offence. "Nothing Ron, Harry is just sick or something."

Noticing the teacher walking up to them slowly, Hermione quickly shut up and put her face in her text book.

Ron didn't catch on in time.

"You expect me to believe that?" Ron started to pick a fight with his know-it-all friend, but a ruler tapped on his desk before he could say what he wanted to say.

Ron turned his head to see Ms. Umbridge looking at him with the evil she masked with a fake kind smile, her small round eyes wide as she stared at him. Reminding Ron of cute bunnies, evil cute bunnies, evil bunnies that eat you're dog at night while you sleep.

"Yes, Ms. Umbridge?" He attempted to douse the fire of her punishing eyes with his polite voice. But Ms. Umbridge was anything but forgiving.

"Lunch detention, Mr. Weezley." Was all she said before going back to the front of the room.

Ron looked at Hermione with tired eyes, and Hermione glanced at him in apology. But they were silent after that, they could talk later, it was bad enough that Ron would have to spend the first half of lunch in detention with the worst Hogwarts teacher in existence.

"Now class," Ms. Umbridge turned to face the group of children all at their desks, standing in front of the chalk board that started writing on it's own the weeks agenda "please make sure you are on page 357. We will now start studying how professional wizards defend themselves against the three forbidden curses."

...

He doesn't know what to do.

Harry had no idea what to do with himself.

He's had at least three random boners, while thinking about Ron, since the shower incident.

Harry picked at his food, not actually eating, while he waited for his friends to arrive. He needed to figure this out quickly before something horrible happened between him and Ron. But he couldn't even look at Ron, let alone talk to him, without feeling like his heart was in his throat.

He really needed to face Ron, figure out for himself what was wrong.

The thought of actually talking to Ron while he was so... Distraught around him, had Harry clutching his hair in his hands.

The familiar bang of heavy books being set on the table told Harry that his friends were finally there, and that electrifying tingling sensation started making its way up to his throat until he thought he would choke. But looking up, he noticed that it was only Hermione, and Ron was nowhere in sight.

Hermione sat down and looked at Harry, biting her lip. Harry knew that meant she had something to say.

"What is it?" He was almost glad Ron wasn't with her, the feeling of asphyxiation died down in his chest.

Hermione regarded Harry with a curious expression, as if wondering something. "Harry, what's wrong with you and Ron these last few days?" She asked so sweetly, as if she already knew the answer.

Harry glanced up at her but then rested his head on his arm, too emotionally exhausted for this talk. "I don't know." He had wondered when she would bring it up, he knew she would detect a breach in their comfortable triangle, he had expected this talk sooner or later.

He had just hoped to Merlin that it would have been _much_ later.

"Harry, Ron told me you saw him naked and ever since you have been acting strange."

Hermione always was one to get right to the point, no introduction, just blunt and simple.

Harry groaned out without lifting his head, "yeah, and?"

He didn't see the expression she had on her face, but he suspected it was an expression of realisation, or something, by her tone of voice.

There was a pause, and Harry blew air out his lungs roughly. Hermione looked around, making sure nobody was close enough to hear their conversation.

Satisfied there was no one to overhear, she leaned down towards Harry's head, "Harry, how strange exactly have you been acting? In a physical way, I mean."

Harry picked his head up and looked at Hermione, before looking away in shame. Should he tell her?

She gave him a curious face, approach the subject careful, fully aware of how sensitive the topic was. "Harry, I need you to answer me truthfully. I'm you best friend, and I will never judge you." She grabbed his hand and spoke quietly, "how have you been... _Handling_ yourself?" She waited for a response from Harry, but he looked so lost in embarrassment. "When you look at Ron, what do you think? Or feel?"

Harry looked down at their hands, hers clutching firmly on the top of his.

He thought about how to answer, looking very uncomfortable.

"I saw Ron naked, wet from his shower." He started, speaking slowly and quietly, minding the people around them. "And Merlin, Hermione. I couldn't take my eyes off him."

He hoped she understood just from hearing that, and she seemed to because she nodded and leaned a little back. But she leaned forward again to ask, "do you think about a lot of men while you wank, or just Ron?"

Harry blushed at the question, unsure if he was embarrassed about Hermione asking him about his sex life, between he and his right hand, or if he was embarrassed to admit that he only thinks about Ron that way. But as he realized what his answer to her question was, suddenly everything became clear. The ache in his chest at night, the bubbling anxiety when Ron was near, the desire to be as close as possible to the redhead...

"It's just Ron, Hermione." He said it softly, putting his face in his hands. "Just, Ron."

...

_Oxygen wouldn't make it into his lungs, he was sufficating. He opened his mouth wide to scream, but nothing would come out._

_Long black tendrils seemed to curl around him, trapping him against some un-seen force. He couldn't see anything around him, something was covering his eyes, which only served to make Harry panic more._

_"Harry!"_

_Someone was screaming for him, and Harry could feel terrible, awful fear with every fiber of his being. He just_ knew _that voice was important, but he couldn't place it._

_Was it his father? It was male, but it was more youthful then what his father would sound like._

_"Harry, help!"_

_He needed to get to that voice, needed to help them no matter what it took. He felt like if he didn't reach that voice, it would be the end of his world, the end of him._

_Suddenly his vision cleared, and the sight he saw made him more scared then he had ever been in his life, nothing compared to the fear that he felt. Every muscle in his body was screaming to get free, he could see now who it was._

_He could see Voldemort standing there with his wand in hand, and Ron was being held down by bewitched tree roots, keeping him grounded to the dirt. His wand was nowhere in sight, and he looked so scared that it pulled tears to Harry's eyes._

_"Harry, help me!" He heard Ron desperately cry out as he struggled to get free, staring up at the face of his own personal worst nightmare, he who must not be named._

_Ron's face was one of pure agony, and Harry could just feel that Ron was suffering the cruciatis curse._

_Harry faught to get free, screaming at Voldemort, screaming for Ron. Something in his chest was breaking, the wires in his brain were falling apart and he had no control over his shrill, desperate voice. He would do anything,_ **anything** , _even get down on his knees and beg, if Voldemort would let Ron go._

_But Voldemort didn't._

_"Avabra Kadabra!" His evil voice rang out, malicious intent inspiring a bright green glow to emit from his wand._

_Harry could hear himself yelling, and suddenly his body was moving, moving towards Ron faster then he thought possible, moving towards what he knew was death._

The last thing he remembered before waking up screaming, was the eyes of his best friend shutting in fear as he screamed with the most agonisingly terrified scream he'd ever heard.

"Ron!" Harry shot up in bed, panting heavily, breathing erratically.

He looked around to the faces that shot up from their own beds around him.

"What, what Harry, what's wrong?" He heard the chorus of concerned voices but Ron was the only one he could see. But the dream was so real, it was hard to believe it was just a dream, he felt like he was still caught in the fake reality it brought. He could still see Ron's terrified eyes, could still hear himself screaming.

It took him a moment to realise that he was actually still screaming at the top of his lungs.

Ron had shot out of bed imediatly after hearing Harry scream his name, he was across the few feet of distance from Harry's bed in a matter of seconds, and as soon as he was close enough, he grabbed the screaming face of Harry and made the boy look at him.

Harry was still breathing heavily, eyes glassy and searching around him, scared out of his mind.

"Harry, look at me, it was Just a bad dream." Ron said, hand cupping Harry's face.

The other people in the room watched with concern in their eyes as they took a good look at Harry. The screams that the boy had let out scared them all shitless. Harry was sweating as usual when he had a nightmare, his body stiff and his eyes wide in fright. It was Harry's eyes that always had everyone worried, those eyes that seemed to have seen the most horrible of nightmares.

They didn't even mind waking up when Harry started screaming from a nightmare, Harry had always been there when they needed him. So they would stay up in the middle of the night for a few minutes until Harry could take a good look around, long enough for him to realise what he dreamed about wasn't real.

"Harry, why are you screaming for me?" Ron asked worried, Harry had never done this before.

Harry finally looked into Ron's eyes, the worried green pools exactly what he needed to see. After seeing those eyes so corrupt with fright, he needed to see them just as they are now.

Safe.

"It felt so real." Was all he said, looking as if he was about to lose it, too scared to say much else.

Ron stared down at his friend and sighed, Harry was much too tense and scared to be left alone to his thoughts. He looked up at their two other roommates, nodding at them, and letting them know he could take it from there.

The other two boys nodded, knowing that Harry and Ron had been best friend since they were 11, and Ron knew exactly how to take care of the raven, so they went back to bed.

Ron got into the bed with Harry, the raven seeming to be too upset to realise what was going on at first, but he scooted over none the less.

"What are you..." Ron shushed Harry before he could continue to question him, laying his head-on Harry's pillow and pulling the boy down gently to join him.

Harry did, facing Ron, taking a deep breath and trying to settle his breathing. It was just a dream, none of it was real.

Ron's hand never left his face, Harry could feel the tips of his fingers behind his ear, curling into his hair. As much as Harry hated to admit when he needed physical contact from someone, this was definitely helping him relax. Ron's thumb brushed his cheek, and the tips of his fingers started gently stroking the back of his neck.

Harry relaxed imediatly, and he came back to his senses.

Their faces were inches apart, he noticed finally. Not only that, but Ron smelt _heavenly_ , like tea and roses.

Harry hummed, closing his eyes breifly.

That tingly feeling suddenly blew up in his chest, replacing the fear, but Harry was sure Ron wasn't using that trick on him. So why was his chest tingling so much? Harry frowned.

What Hermione said earlier rang back in his head, her words didn't seem so real until now. He knew of how smart Hermione was, she was never wrong, he should have known better then to think she would be wrong this time.

" _Harry, could you possibly have a crush on Ron_?" She had nailed it right on the head. But Harry had denied it completely until now, laying there so close to his friend, with his fingers caressing his face. Something was beginning to store in Harry, and the boy wasn't entirely sure he was ready for it.

He didn't even know if Ron would ever feel the same.

"Go back to sleep, Harry," Ron said quietly, leaning his forehead over the last few centimeters to connect with Harry's.

Ron honestly hoped he wouldn't have to use the power to help Harry sleep, and he was glad Harry had been so compliant so far. It was unexpected, how easily Harry calmed down just from touching his neck, but Ron wasn't about to complain. At least he knew Harry wasn't subconsciously relying on the power to feel calm.

This was the closest they had been in days, Ron couldn't imagine why Harry had been avoiding him for so long. It seemed rediculous, what could have been bothering Harry so much that he avoided him?

Ron didn't know, but for now at least, Harry was allowing Ron to help him.

He wondered, as he and Harry both drifted back to sleep, what the next few days would bring.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry was gone before Ron even woke up.

The red head lifted his furry hair from Harry's pillow and looked around groggily, Hedwig hooting as he looked at the Ron from his spot perched on Harry's desk.

Ron groaned and shoved his face back in the pillow, guessing Harry was back to avoiding him, seeing as the boy wasted no time to get out of the dorm before Ron could wake up and talk to him.

He roughly got out of bed, and saw that both his other two roommates were getting dressed for class as well.

"Any idea how early Harry left?" He asked the two of them, unsure how he didn't feel the raven leaving the bed.

Dean nodded, "I saw him getting ready an hour ago, but I was too tired from what happened last night to ask him what he was doing up so early." Dean looked at Ron apologetically while he tied his robe.

Ron changed into his pants and his white button up, putting his tie on after, and slipped on his robe, he was always quick at getting dressed.

Ron sighed.

"Suppose he's at breakfast?" Hamish asked as he tied his shoes.

Ron didn't look up as he tied his shoes, "He damn well better be, he still needs to recover from what the Dursley's did to him." Ron suddenly looked like he was ready to drop kick someone. He would never forgive the Dursley's, and he would keep to his promise to himself that he would make sure they never hurt him again. Ron himself would be 18 by the end of this year, so he would be able to back his threats up with magic if needed, which is what he knew was the Dursley's worst fear.

As soon as Voldemort was defeated, and Harry didn't need the Dursley's protection, he would be taking Harry out of that house _himself_.

Ron grabbed his wand and left the dorm, not bothering to say bye to his other roommates, he was determined to find Harry and ask what his problem was.

But he couldn't find the boy anywhere.

He wasn't at breakfast, much to Ron's hatred. He wondered breifly if Harry ate at all.

Knowing full well that he didn't, Ron grabbed a few breadrolls, and stuffed them in his pocket. It wouldn't be much, but that's why magic was real, Ron could just cast a spell before Harry eats them.

Harry was nowhere to be found, he wasn't anywhere in the dorms, or in the castle, he even checked Hagrids, but Harry wasn't anywhere.

He finally bumped into Nevile, and Ron's curiosity peaked. The red head grabbed Neville's shoulder before he could get too far away, and Ron asked hopefully, "Hey mate, have you seen Harry anywhere?"

Neville looked uncomfortable for some reason, but Ron shrugged it off, Neville always did get a little nervous when people asked him questions. The poor bloke was freakishly shy.

"No, Ron, haven't seen Harry at all, I don't know where he is." Neville didn't break eye contact as he grinned, and honestly he looked more then a little nervous to Ron.

Ron let go of Neville's shoulder, confused, but not about to be slowed down. Ron rolled his eyes in impatients, classes would start in a few minutes.

Wait.

Classes would start in a few minutes.

That's it! Ron had almost _every_ class with Harry, surely Harry wasn't planning on avoiding him to the point he didn't show up for classes... Right?

Proud of himself, Ron ran as fast as he could, both in a hurry to make it to class on time, and in a hurry to talk to Harry. Their first class was with Professor Snape, and the teacher would at all be forgiving if they were late, and/or skipping his class. They would surely get detention for a week.

His feet flew across the floor as he ran, nearly as fast as he could up the stairs and down the hall. It was probably unnecessary, seeing as class wouldn't start for another five minutes, and he could make it there in a walk of about two minutes, but Ron wanted to get there as early as possible in case Harry was there. He needed to have a word with the boy, and pick at the nerve that was blocking Harry from talking to Ron about what was going on.

He made it into class panting, only half the kids were in the room, Ron noticed as he looked around breifly. Harry was no where in sight, and Ron's near furious mind fell in disappointment.

Hermione sat in the back of the classroom, where they all usually sat, pointedly looking at Ron as if he had grown bunny ears.

Ron just blinked, his expression not giving anything away as he made his way over to his chair. As soon as he sat down, he didn't waste any time, he asked Hermione, "have you seen Harry anywhere? I've been looking all over for him all bloody morning."

Hermione's expression seemed to be apologetic, but Ron couldn't imagine what she needed to apologise for. "I'm sure he'll be here in a minute; the bells about to ring."

Ron watched the door after that, not willing to allow Harry to slip past him. Everytime someone walked in, Ron's excitement would rise, until he realised it wasn't Harry, but then he would want to groan in irritation.

Professor Snape started walking towards the door to close it, and Ron's heart started dropping in disappointment, but, the _millisecond_ the bell started to ring, Harry entered the classroom.

Something blossomed in Ron's chest at the sight of his friend. Relief? Joy? A combination to the two? He didn't know, he was just glad he finally found Harry.

Boy was he going to give the raven a peice of his mind.

But as Harry came and sat down next to him, looking a number of levels of uncomfortable, Snape called for the class to start, shutting the door to the room and locking it.

Ron stared at Harry, who sat still in his chair, staring at his fiddling fingers. Did Harry plan it this way? Showing up to class at just the right time to avoid confrontation with Ron?

 _Real slick, Harry,_ Ron thought, rolling his eyes.

No matter.

There was always the five minutes passing period after every class.

Ron had all day to play this stupid game of cat and mouse, if Harry wanted.

 _All bloody day_.

...

Potions took much longer to end today then it normally did, the anticipation Ron felt was growing at a tauntingly fast pass with every minute that passed by. He couldn't even focus on Professor Snape's lesson, too engrossed in thinking about what he wanted to say to Harry.

When the bell finally rang and Snape dismissed the class, Harry was practically the first one out the door, rushing passed the desks and threw the students before Ron could even stand up out of his chair.

 _Uh uh, no way_ , Ron thought. Harry is _not_ getting away from him.

Ron snatched up his things, not even speaking a word to Hermione as he ran just as fast to catch up with Harry.

It didn't take long before Ron was grabbing the back of Harry's robe and forcing the boy to a stop. Ron dragged Harry into a hallway where hundreds of kids weren't rushing threw to get to their next class, and nearly threw the underweight boy against the wall. Harry nearly lost his balance, but caught it when his back hit the wall behind him, he was ready to give Ron hell for his rough treatment, but when he looked up, his breath caught like it always did.

Ron was mad, that much was clear in his burning green eyes. Harry could see tons of emotion rushing threw the bright emeralds, including annoyance, worry, pain, and anger, and those were just what he could imediatly see on the surface.

They were both panting from running, but neither of them spoke a word for the first few seconds, as if Ron hadn't registered yet that Harry was actually standing in front of him, making the eye contact he had been trying to get for days now.

Harry remembered last night, when Ron helped him sleep. He remembered how gently Ron had spoken to him, and how gentle he had been in comforting him to relax. The warmth he had felt when his cheek was in Ron's hand, and the warmth he felt when he fell asleep after that, _calmly even_.

That warmth was still there in Ron's face, but it was filled with much more outrage and annoyance. Which was to be expected, Harry after all had been avoiding him without word for the last few days.

When Ron finally spoke, it was like music to Harry's ears and his heart skipped a beat, "what in the bloody hell has been with you the last few days, Harry?!" He whisper shouted to the raven, not willing to allow anyone to overhear what they were saying.

Harry shoved out a harsh breath, "I don't know." It was an honest answer, but Ron wasn't satisfied with it.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Ron looked like he was ready to grab Harry by the shoulders and shake the nonsense out of him. "First your acting strange, then your avoiding me like the plague, you don't talk to me in the dorm. You wake up screaming my name like bloody murder last night, and now I have to chase you all over campus just to get you to talk to me?!" Ron looked hurt, but the annoyance he felt still outshined everything else he felt.

Harry flinched with every enunciation Ron made in his speech, unsure how to answer. "You wouldn't understand, please Ron, I'm sorry. I just don't know what's wrong with me."

Ron studied Harry, looking for any signs that would let on to what was going on, but there were none. All Ron could see in Harry's eyes was confusion, honesty and... Something else Ron didn't recognize. Admiration?

"What do you mean you don't know?" Ron poked at that nerve he promised himself he would prod at. "Why can't you talk to me? Is it something I did?"

Harry shook his head no, and Ron didn't see a lie, "is it something to do with me?"

Harry shook his head no. But Ron saw something change in his eyes, a little flicker of something toxic as the ravens ears burned red.

Ron's eyes widened slightly, "your lying." He accused imediatly.

Harry's own eyes widened in shock, but he didn't say anything.

"I can always tell when your lying to me, Harry, you cannot hide, so tell me the truth." Ron insisted as he stepped forward.

Harry dodged the question, instead shrugging his shoulders and looking anywhere else but at Ron's face. His heart was already hammering out of his chest, and he could feel his finger tips burning. He could smell Ron from where he was, that familiar, mind numbing, _blasted_ scent of his.

Ron got fed up, "you have been avoiding me for more then half a week and all you have to say for yourself is a shrug?" The information made Ron look like he was about to strike Harry, or shake him, or yell at him some more, but Ron held back.

Ron put a hand to his face, finding it harder and harder to talk to Harry without blowing up, "where have you been hiding? I couldn't find you anywhere, you weren't even at break-" Ron roughly caught himself, remembering something important, "did you even eat today? Or even yesterday for that matter." Ron remembered that Harry had been nowhere to be found in the cafeteria during dinner time, or breakfast either.

Harry blushed, looking like he was about to lie, his ears were already turning red. Ron knew that the lie was on the tip of Harry's tongue and at any second now he would verbally throw it in his face.

Ron wasn't having that though.

"Don't you dare lie to me, Harry." He threatened, feeling a knife in his throat that his best friend even _had_ it in his head to be dishonest with him again. What had he done to make Harry so untrusting of him?

The look on Ron's face had Harry shutting up before he could even voice a letter of the word 'yes'. The look on Ron's face when he said those last words had a finality in it.

But Harry's silence was all the answer he needed apparently as he rolled his eyes and started digging threw his robe pocket.

Harry watched in slight shock as Ron pulled out a pair of breadrolls from breakfast, and shoved them forward at Harry.

"Eat. Now." Ron pointedly made it clear he wasn't leaving any room for argument. Already whispering an enchantment on the snack without Harry noticing.

Harry stomach growled, as he started biting into the bread and the dry, but soft, crust crumbled inside his mouth. It was cold, and a little bit smooches, but it still tasted buttery and like the best bread in the world. Hogwarts really did know how to make bread rolls.

Ron seemed satisfied when Harry took the first couple of bites out of the bread, knowing the spell he put on it will give Harry back a portion of the energy the Dursley's took from him.

Harry's eyes widened as he looked at the clock on the wall, "we're going to be late for _fortune telling_!" He turned, and before Ron could even catch up to what was going on, Harry was already running away.

' _wait, you bloody worm, I wasn't done talking_!'

Ron growled in dissatisfaction, running after Harry.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry sat in his chair, waiting patiently for class to start. It was relieving, being in a class where Harry and Ron weren't allowed to sit together in. The red head was sitting a few rows directly behind him, and despite the fact that Harry could feel his friend staring at him, Harry was happy to have an hour without Ron griping at him for answers. Harry didn't have the answers that Ron wanted, but he knew that Ron was going to be persistent until he got _something_ out of him.

A man walked into the classroom while Harry was attempting to figure out how to deflate Ron's curiosity and persistence. He was older and had long silky black hair tied up in a ponytail. He was dressed in full black as if he was trying to imitate professor Snape, and had slight salt and pepper scruffiness across his jaw.

The man set some books on the front desk and turned to give the class a fake smile, "Hello class, I am Professor Mack Donald, and I will be subsituting for Professor McGonagall until she recovers from her most unfortunate illness." Professor Donald's face crinkled in concern, and Harry couldn't tell if it was fake or not. However his own concern for one if the nicest teachers on campus was probably gonna have him worried for a bit.

The professor started walking down the aisles as he spoke, "Now, I want you all to turn to page 394. We have been instructed by your professor to read spells 1-6 and then practice them individually in the front of the room. It may take a few days, but it will keep us busy until McGonagall gets back."

When he got to where Harry was sitting, as the boy shuffled threw the pages of his text book, completely unbothered by the odd look he was getting from the older man, the professor tilted his head to the side in interest.

Ron glared as the substitute licked his lips. The red head had never seen that look on a teacher before, but he knew the look of lust when he saw it. A new kind of fuming rage bubbled within him to combine with the stress and irritation from the last few days. How dare a teacher look at Harry like that?! With eyes gleaming down at the unsuspecting raven like a fox stalking a rabbit.

Hermione was sitting next to him and they both made eye contact, sharing the concern of the inappropriate stare the teacher was giving Harry. Ron breifly wondered if they were the only ones in the classroom to notice. With a brief glance around at all the busy students focusing on getting to the right page, and neively ignoring the evidence of inappropriate behavior happening right in front of them, Ron thought not.

Hermione lifted her hand and spoke, mostly to draw the teachers attention away from a very clueless Harry Potter. "Excuse me, sir? I'd like to read the first one alloud."

The teacher looked up from Harry, who had finally gotten to the right page and had barely looked up to notice the teacher looking at him, and regarded Hermione with an annoyed expression. Probably hiding the fact that he thought of Hermione as the smartass of the classroom. Trying to be as docile as appropriate, he nodded politely, and accepted her request, turning around and striding back to the front of the room.

The spell seemed simple enough, and the pronunciation looked to be easy. Professor McGonagall seemed to be starting them off with an easy spell, and it was probably more for the teacher too. They had been doing much more complicated spells the last few years, surely the professor knew they could do this spell easily.

Hermione read over the instructions on exactly how to pernounce it, though it seemed unnecessary for any literate person in the room with a brain, and then read over the defense against the spell. Even though everyone knew how to defend themselves against an unfriendly spell at this point in their schooling.

"Thank you, Hermione." The professor politely said when Hermione completed reading the spell, with perfect pernunciation and without stutter as usual. "Now class, I would like you all to stand and firm two lines going down the center aisle, we will perform the spell on by one until we all get it." He waited a few seconds as the students shuffled to get in line, "you may use your books this first time, and if we have time at the end of class, I will have some of you perform the spell without the use of your book."

When he was satisfied with the two lines, he had the first people in line start. The two faced each other, wands up and ready. One started chanting the attack spell, as instructed, while the other waited to chant the defensive spell.

Ron hadn't gotten to Harry's side in time, so he was a few people behind the raven, which Harry was greatful for.

What he wasn't happy about, however, was it seemed that Malfoy would be his aponet. If Harry was counting correctly, and if Malfoy's smug glare at him was anything to go by. It was then that Harry noticed that he was in the defensive line and Malfoy was in the attacking line.

 _Bloody brilliant_.

Malfoy's expression was lacking the evil that Harry saw in his father, but showed more then just a little malicious intent as he excitedly waited his turn.

The spell was to rid the other wizard of all power, rendering them useless against any attacker. The professor told them that there was a quick fix to it, assuming they didn't have time to wait for the spell to wear off, which for the purpose of practicing in a classroom they didn't. So he promised them that if they were unable to say the defensive spell in time, he would undo it within the minute.

All too soon it was Harry and Malfoy's turn.

Harry's face remained blank, only expressing minimal irritation to be partnered with his bully. He held up his wand, ready to speak the defensive spell as soon as Malfoy spoke.

The instructor hadn't even finished giving instructions before Malfoy was yelling out, "Robur multiplicat!"

The tendrils of magic burst out of Malfoy's wand and flew streight towards Harry. But Harry was ready, knowing in advance that Malfoy would definitely pull something like this. He not only said the defensive spell, he shouted his own spell out before Malfoy could think to try again.

With a flick of Harry's wrist, Malfoy was powerless. Harry watched as Malfoy attempted to fire another spell at him, flicking his wand faster and muttering different attacking spells, but nothing came out.

Harry's satisfaction was short lived as the professor ordered them to stop.

The raven haired teen looked up at the substitute teacher, who was giving Harry a look that expressed both irritation, and delight.

"Harry Potter?" The way Harry's name rolled off the subs tongue made Ron and Hermione shiver. They stayed put in their spots in line as the professor stood between Harry and the pure blood.

"Detention." Was all the teacher said as he did a quick undoing spell for Malfoy. Ron went pale, considering putting himself in detention as well.

Harry's surprise quickly broke out into his face as he protested, "forgive me sir, but what for?"

The professor didn't respond, simply told the rest of the class to continue with the lesson.

Harry walked to the back of the line with added irritation, ignoring the look of satisfaction on Malfoy's face a few feet away.

He got over it quickly, it wasn't unheard of for Malfoy to be dismissed from trouble, due to his powerful father. It wasn't something Harry wasn't used to at all. Besides, detention meant he had a reason to continue avoiding Ron. He wouldn't have to see him after class for another hour.

He knew that it was probably pointless to keep avoiding him, now that Ron was becoming increasingly persistent to talk to him, going as far as to run around campus looking for him. Especially since they shared a room together and cerfew was 8pm for all students.

He was glad he stashed his invisibility cloak in his bag, it made it easier to avoid Ron when he couldn't see him.

Harry had thought he blew his own cover this morning when he accidentally backed up into Neville when Ron was getting closer. He knew that Neville was a terrible liar, but Neville had promised not to tell Ron that he had seen him. All he could do was have faith in Neville... And have more faith in the fact that Ron could never tell when someone, other then Harry apparently, was lying to him. Ron hadn't found him, so he guessed Neville held true to his promise.

Harry definitely did not like the substitute teacher, so he was glad when the period ended. Now the students only had one class left, then it was off to detention for Harry.

In the midst of reflecting on the way Professor Donald teaches and controls the classroom, Ron snuck up on Harry in the hallway.

A hand grabbed on to his shoulder, and the green eyed raven nearly shrieked when Ron pulled him into a broom closet, somehow without the other students noticing.

"Ron? What-." Harry started to protest, becoming very aware of the fact that they were crammed in a small, _very small_ , closet and Ron was standing between him and the door.

"Harry," Ron interrupted, inches away, "I'm going to ask you again." His voice was low, and gruff. And the sound sent foreign tingles down his neck, all the way down to his lower back and across his shoulders. He was unable to deny that he liked it.

Harry blushed, pressing his body back into the wall behind him, trying to create as much distance from Ron as possible, he was close enough that he could smell the roses and tea on the redhead. He was practically suffocating in it until he smelt nothing but Ron.

"Why have you been avoiding me Harry?" Ron asked, his lips dancing as he spoke.

Harry silently breathed deeply, desire becoming more and more apparent as he studied Ron's face.

The light cream color of his skin, and the slight red stubble growing down his jaw, the way his orange bangs fell over and framed his blue eyes. Fire clashed with water, the deep pools of liquid fighting to entrap Harry forever in it's deep pits, and not needing to put much effort.

Harry watched as Ron's nose twitched slightly, something he does when he's in deep thought

They were too close, it was scary how Harry could see every feature on Ron's face, and find nothing that he didn't like. Ron shouldn't have been so appealing, and Harry couldn't understand why every single hair on Ron's head drew that funny emotion from him. It felt like waves of desire, need, and desperation were all trying to get out the more Ron stared at him like that. Like he was the most important thing in the world, like Harry was a puzzle that he wanted to spend his life figuring out.

Harry wanted something, he didn't understand what it was, but he grew more and more desperate for it the longer he stayed pressed up against the wall. He felt a sort of satisfaction being in this room alone with Ron, away from the judgmental eyes of his peers, and he didn't understand why. He knew that there was a fluttering in his chest, knew that there was nowhere he would rather be in the world, then right here where he stood just inches away from his best friend.

He stuttered out pathetic attempts at a response, staring into Ron's eyes, and feeling very warm.

He was breathless, starstruck, unable to say anything. Words were jumbled in his head. He forgot what English even was, and he couldn't voice what was going on in his head. As if his brain was inactive and he was only thinking with his heart.

But, no words would come out of his mouth to the question of 'what was happening?' because there were _no_ words to describe what was happening to him. He couldn't put it into words, so he was drawing blank. His brain couldn't say what was happening, because it didn't even understand what his heart was feeling, or why it was feeling it.

It was too much, if he stayed there any longer, Harry had no idea what he would do.

With one more stutter, and a resolution to the internal battle Harry was feeling, Harry shoved Ron to the side and quickly escaped the broom closet.

Ron growled in rage, knowing Harry had always been very fast on his feet, and could out run most people. Bloody hell, he became the game seeker of Gryffindor because of how fast he was.

But, Ron was fast too.

And he wasn't about to let Harry get away that easily.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron shouted to himself, just catching Harry's ear, as he ran after the raven in persuite.

They had apparently been in the closet for a very short time, because there was still a lot of students out in the hallways. Harry and Ron both had to menuver between students as they ran.

As soon as Harry realized that Ron was chasing him, he cursed and ran faster, not expecting Ron to actually run after him.

A few minutes later, the bell had already rung without either of them noticing. Their panting and sweaty bodies continued to run at full speed threw the halls. Harry knew Ron wouldn't care if he had to skip 8th period, he was a teacher's pet in that class anyways,

They had also already ran so far away from the safety of Harry's class. So, Harry knew that if Ron caught up to him, it was over, he was too exhausted to run from him again, but he wasn't ready to talk either.

He needed something to happen, needed to lose him somewhere.

It was then that he remembered his invisibility cloak, hidden somewhere not too far from where they were now, and with knew determination, Harry redirected down the hall.

It was just around the corner, if he could just make it there and quickly grab the cloak, he could disappear and he'd have more time avoiding their very nessesary conversation.

He hated himself for this, he never considered himself someone to run away from his problems, let alone his friends. Hermione had told him that he would be able to talk to Ron about _anything_ , even this thing that was going on with him. But, Harry couldn't see how he would have the bravery to do that.

Fighting dementors? _Fine_.

Dealing with Malfoy? _That's fine too._

Handling his aunt and uncle? _Peice of cake_.

Fighting Voldemort? _Not so easy, but, still okay with that_.

Fighting mental and bodily possession? _In his sleep_.

Dealing with his feelings towards _Ron_?

Well, he was actively running from that.

Well, he _was_ running anyways, until he rounded the corner and almost crashed into a familiar pastel pink outfit.

Harry haulted in a panic, for a second thinking he would crash right into the professor he had come to hate the most. He stopped just in time, with only a few inches distance between him and her, but he cursed when the body of Ron crashed into him from behind a second later.

The impact stopped most of Ron's acceleration, but, it wasn't enough to keep Harry from falling through the remaining distance between him and Professor Umbridge.

The older lady righted herself with a frown, having only been knocked back just a couple feet before she regained her balance. She glared at the panting and sweaty faces pleading guilty in front of her before pointing an accusing finger at both of them.

"You boys," she said with her fake sweet voice. "After school detention." She gave them a smile that would put sharks to shame and started walking away.

Harry panted before calling after her, ignoring Ron for the moment. "But I already have detention with Professor Donald."

Professor Umbridge simply turned and continued to give Harry that falsely merciful expression. As if she had no problem showing him that she was being as sadistic as possible.

"You'll have to miss it today, dear Harry Potter." Then she turned the corner, with her last call as she walked away. "I expect you both go streight to your classrooms, if your not there in five minutes, I'll know, and you'll both be punished accordingly."

Harry looked at Ron, who looked back at him.

Ron looked almost defeated, and a pained expression was now evident in his features. Further making Harry hate himself for running away.

It wasn't Ron's fault.

Harry was being completely unfair.

The silence that fell between them was all but comforting as Harry thought of something to say. He had not been a good friend the last few days, and not knowing how he was feeling wasn't a good excuse at all.

He needed to talk. And despite how much fear that thought brought down on Harry's shoulders, he knew it had to be done. Ron didn't diserve what Harry was doing, and the raven knew that.

He needed to correct this mistake before he made Ron suffer anymore. Besides, he knew that with their shared bedroom, this talk would happen at some point today anyways; it was pointless to avoid it anymore.

With a sigh, Harry finally caught his breath. He stood up streight and turned to his friend, who had his hands on his knees as he sat on the windowsill, breathing slowly and deeply with his head down. As if he had a sudden interest on the pattern of the tiles they walked on daily.

"Ron?" He hoped that he hadn't made his friend so angry that he would be unwilling to listen to him now.

Ron glanced up at him through miffed eyes, and Harry winced. He had pushed it too far, running off this time. He needed to fix it right then, he couldn't let Ron walk off like this.

Harry slowly sat down on the floor in front of Ron, knowing the redhead wasn't going to look up at him, but Harry needed the eye contact.

He looked up at Ron, and Ron looked down at him.

"I'm sorry, mate." Harry said. "I shouldn't have run from you. That wasn't fair to you at all." He remembered what Umbridge had said, and knew that as much as he wanted to talk now, they both needed to leave. "If you still want to talk after detention, I promise I won't run this time."

Harry watched in relief when the irritation and anger slowly melted away from Ron's bright blue eyes. It was still there, definitely, but Harry knew that it would eventually go away.

He knew that he wouldn't be able to avoid this conversation any longer. They would be alone in their room together, with nothing but time on their hands, until their roommates showed up just before cerfew as usual.

Ron sighed and nodded as he got up, "Okay, Harry."

In the brief moment that Ron was standing, and Harry was still on his knees in front of him, Ron felt strange. Looking down at Harry's green eyes, Ron couldn't help but admire the ravens features for the millionth time since the moment they met.

 _He is definitely beautiful_ , Ron thought, unafraid to admire his best friends appearance, and further solidifying a determination that he made years ago.

Harry stood and smiled, "great, then I'll see you in detention."


	7. Chapter 7

It was quiet in Ms. Umbridge's room when the two best friends entered.

They both walked in after taking the walk of shame from their last class with frowns on their faces, standing by the door while they watched the pink old lady stir her tea with that resting bitch smirk.

The woman's office walls were painted a dull pink, and were covered in plates with moving pictures of cats. The whole room reminded Ron of his great aunt Tessy, who lived with dozens of cats in her house.

She looked up after a moment, pretending that it was the first time she noticed them. "Ah, hello boys." She grinned, "Nice of you to join me, please," she motioned to the two empty desks to their left, "Have a seat, both of you."

They breifly looked at each other before setting their books down by their feet, sitting down in each of their chairs.

Umbridge stood up gracefully, palms together as she looked at them like they were oh so precious. "Now boy's. You were both caught running in the hallways, and busted attempting to skip class." She picked up a quill from her desk and walked over to stand directly in front of both of them as they stared up at her with matching frowns. "You both will be writing lines for me today."

"Mr. Potter." The raven made unwanted eye contact with the devil of a woman. "This is your first offence with me this year, so you are to be let off with a warning." Harry looked at her confused, if he was being let off with a warning, then why was he receiving the same punishment as Ron?

She turned to the ginger and grinned evily. "Mr. Weasley, unfortunately this is your second detention with me in a week." She put on a fake apologetic pout, "I'm afraid you will be using my special quill today."

She handed over the brown quill, not giving Ron any ink.

He looked up at her, just as confused as Harry. What did using a quill have to do with punishment?

As Umbridge started walking back to her desk, Harry, as calmly as he could in the situation, asked what they would be writing.

"Oh, please write, 'I will not ever skip class.'"

"How many times?"

"Oh, as long as it takes the message to sink in, dear."

Ron was waiting patiently, but as Harry started writing with his own quill, he quietly said allowed, less respectfully then Harry. "You haven't given me any ink."

Umbridge looked at him and smiled, "oh don't worry dear, you will not need any."

Ron's face showed just how irritated he was with the old lady, but he turned to Harry who was on his fifth line, and sighed.

At least Harry didn't have to go to Donald's.

He adjusted the quill and was surprised to see it writing perfectly without any ink.

' _I will_ _not-'_ his hand started to burn, and he hissed slightly as he continued, _'ever skip class.'_ it wasn't until he dotted the period did his hand really start to hurt, and he looked at it. His mouth dropping open as he hissed in pain as each letter carved itself on the back of his hand. As if instead of writing it on paper, Ron had taken a blade and started etching the words into his skin.

He stared at it, outraged, as the words finished writing. There on his hand, in his own handwriting, were the words he just wrote.

'I will not ever skip class.'

Harry looked over and his mouth dropped open, his quill falling out of his hand. Anger rose to burn red behind his eyes as he took in every detail of his best friends bloody hand. His anger took up so much of his energy, that he almost felt he could chew on it.

They both looked up at Umbridge with angry and shocked expressions. She had just made a student hurt himself.

"Do you understand?" She asked, looking for the satisfaction of them telling her she was right to punish Ron that way. "I know that deep down, you know, you deserve to be punished."

Neither boy said anything, just stared at her with hateful, angered blue and green eyes.

She smiled, as though she got what she wanted, "go now boy's. I expect you will be on time for class tomorrow."

They picked up their stuff and left the room.

"I can't believe she did that to you!" Harry angrily whispered as they made their way down the hall, "you have to tell Dumbledore." He insisted.

"No."

Harry's mouth dropped in shock, "what do you mean no? You have to report this Ronald."

"I have more important things on my mind." Ron was leading them back to their shared room, not willing to waste anymore time.

Harry froze.

Ron looked back when he noticed Harry wasn't fallowing him anymore. He turned, a few steps up the stairs and looked down at Harry's frightened green eyes.

Ron leaned against the wall, looking over Harry face for any indication of why he was scared. "You said you wouldn't run away."

"I won't, I promised I wouldn't."

"Then come with me, we need to talk." Ron said it as calmly and as reassuring as he could, but his patience was wearing thin as of late.

Harry nodded and fallowed Ron up into their room.

However when they got there they weren't alone.

' _Serial rapist, Norman Dahmer, father of serial rapist James Dahmer, has escaped from_ _Azcaban_ _. There have been no recorded sightings, we only know that history says he is most likely closing in on his next_ _target-_ _"_ Neville lowered the volume of the radio when the two best friends walked in.

Ron nodded towards the door, "Sorry to kick you out mate, but Harry and I need to have a word."

Neville smiled in understanding, "say no more, I'll see you two before cerfew." He disappeared out the door.

Finally alone, with pleanty of time between then and cerfew, Ron sat on his bed in relief. Finally he would be getting somewhere with Harry

Harry walked slowly over to lean against his bedframe, never looking away from Ron's face. How was he going to do this? How do you tell you best friend, who happens to be the same sex as you, that you have a huge crush on them?

Ron looked at Harry, contemplating the lost look on the raven's attractive face. Wondering what could possibly be going threw his head, that he would be so afraid to talk to him. What had Ron done to make Harry so skeptical of what he could, and could not tell him?

"Why have you been avoiding me, Harry?"

That was it, the one question he had been dying to know since the first time Harry ran away from him. And the one question Harry had been trying to keep from having to answer all this time.

Harry looked into Ron's bright blue eyes, admiring the long red and black lashes that framed the pools of blue as he searched for a response.

"The other day," Harry started, "I had a talk with Hermione, because at first, when this started, I had no idea why it was so uncomfortable being around you."

Ron frowned, "why would you be uncomfortable around me, Harry? Did I hurt you?"

"No."

"Did I say something weird?"

"No." Harry insisted with a shake of his head, "just listen for a moment."

Ron shut his mouth and nodded, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his entwined hands. Eyes staring Harry down as if he was trying to peice the answers together before Harry can even say anything.

Harry took a breath, anxiety slowly starting to radiate all across his torso, he could feel his hands starting to shake and his shoulder became hot. "I had a talk with Hermione, because I knew that her being the genius she is, she could possibly figure the reason out for me. And boy did she figure it all out."

Ron nodded, it sounded like Hermione, she would often figure out what was going on in people's head before they themselves could. It was scary, how she could practically see into people souls just by looking into their eyes. He had never truly believed that the eyes were the windows to the soul until he met Hermione.

"She told me that I should just tell you," Harry continued, "That no matter what, you would not hate me." Ron was about to speak, to tell Harry that of course Hermione was right about that, but Harry held up a hand to stop him from speaking. "But lately I've realized, it's not because I'm scared you'll hate me." Ron was trying to understand, trying to figure out what the problem could possibly be.

"It's because I'm scared of allowing myself to feel this way." Harry clarified, trying to convey to Ron just how nervous he was. This was going to take a lot of bravery just to say it out loud.

Ron tilted his head, curious. "Allow yourself to feel what way, mate?"

Harry looked at Ron, feeling small, and helpless. Never before in all his suffering, has he felt so... Defeated.

"I believe I have a crush on you, Ron." There it was, his worst nightmare, he was starting to develope feelings for his best friend and now Ron knows, he could never deny it again, or pretend it wasn't true. "And I know I do," he started to say, "because every time your close, I feel so..." He stopped as if he didn't know how to say what he really means. "And then you do something, and it will make me want you so bad, that I can't even think straight." He winced, knowing that there was so much more to his feelings, but he remained unable to really express it.

Ron tilted his head in slight confusion, trying to understand, "why would you be afraid to admit that, Harry?" He was flattered, and not at all bothered. He himself was half gay, and had always liked the way Harry looked, even loved his personality above all things. The thought of dating Harry wasn't at all repulsive. He couldn't imagine why Harry would think Ron would see him different.

"Because, Ron." Harry snapped, losing his shit. "Voldemort is alive, and the first thing on his mind in the morning is what he can do to make me suffer."

Suddenly Ron understood, he understood everything. It all made sense now, Harry was afraid that if he allowed himself to feel this way about Ron, then the ginger would be put first on Voldemort's hit list. That's why he avoided Ron, pushed Ron away, did everything he could to get rid of the feelings that were growing inside him by the minute. This was why he didn't want to tell Ron, because if he said it out loud, there was no going back, he couldn't bury it deep in the darkest parts of his heart anymore. It was out there for Ron to see, and Harry felt that because of this, Ron was in more danger then he ever was being Harry's friend.

And it was all Ron's fault.

He made Harry feel this way.

Ron felt bile rise in his throat at what he's done. He just caused Harry to stress over a whole knew world of fear because he had been so ignorant lately. If he had just listened to his father's warning, maybe the power would never have made this happen, and Harry wouldn't be suffering this way now.

"And I can't lose another person I care about Ron, and the thought of losing you or Hermione has always plagued me and haunted my nightmares, but now," Harry swallowed, eyes a bit glossy, "now, its like if I don't protect you, I might lose everything."

Ron stood up from his spot carefully, face as reassuring as he could make it. "Harry, it's okay."

"No it's not," Harry looked as if any moment now he would start to really panic. How could Ron say it was okay after he told him that? Wasn't he afraid that Voldemort might plot against him? If word got out around school about Harry's feelings, then it wouldn't be long before Voldemort found out about it too. "I'm scared, Ron." It was so easy to admit that now, "If anyone in the school were to find out, Voldemort would know before dinner."

"Nobody is going to find out." Ron took the two steps that separated him from Harry.

"You need to stay away from me, Ron. I will not get you killed." Harry backed up, contemplating talking to Dumbledore about switching rooms.

"Harry, I'd never." Ron grabbed his shoulders before he could back up anymore, "you are my best friend, and I will never run away from you."

He wondered if he should tell Harry about the side effect of the power Ron posesses. It would possibly relieve Harry to know  that his feelings weren't actually real, and that there was even a chance they  would go away eventually.

Quickly, he squashed that thought down. He may never run away from Harry, but he wasn't sure that Harry wouldn't be angry enough to run away from him if he learned he manipulated him that way. Forced him to feel things he wasn't ready, or prepared, to feel.

He might never forgive him.

"Why not?" Harry asked, trying to ignore their proximity, "aren't you afraid? I've always gotten people killed either because of close relationship, or just being in my presence at the time." He tried to make Ron see all there was to be afraid of, "Voldemort killed Cedric just for being _near_ me. What do you think he's going to do to _you_ , if he finds out just how much I care about you?"

"Voldemort won't find out," Ron said again calmly, he needed to get Harry to calm down.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because, you are smart, and the strongest person I know." Ron seemed so sure of himself, Harry could almost believe that these traits will be enough to hide this. "And I know you will do anything to protect the people you love." Ron looked so unafraid, he had so much faith in Harry, that the raven wasn't even sure he had in himself.

"You don't want me to get hurt, right?" Ron asked, already knowing the answer.

"Never."

"And you don't want anyone to find out about this, right?"

"Of course not!"

"Then nobody will find out about it," Ron said, his voice softer then feathers, "because, you will do _anything_ to protect me."

Harry was silent. He knew everything Ron was saying was true, Harry knew that he would do _whatever_ it took to keep Ron safe. As he would do for Hermione, or Neville, or anyone in this school. He knew this, which was what Ron was trying to get him to see, and realise. Ron had complete faith in him, and he wanted Harry to have faith in himself.

"Nobody is going to find out, Harry." Ron finished when he saw the spark of acceptance in Harry green eyes. "I'll be fine, and I'm not leaving you alone either. Nothing will ever intimidate me enough to stop being your friend." He stared Harry, making sure to keep eye contact, needing him to know that he meant what he said with every fiber of his being, "Not even, Voldemort."

Now a different matter, now that Harry seemed to have calmed down. They had gotten the bigger problem out of the way, and now it was time for Ron to talk to Harry about how he feels. He looked down at Harry, sick with himself that he has done this to the raven, hating how he made him feel this way. Completely on accident, mind you, but still his fault entirely.

The last thing he wanted to do was cause anymore pain, but Ron just... Didn't feel the same way.

He was a fine bloke, both in appearance and in personality, and had a brilliant mind. But Ron just didn't share the same feelings.

He wondered for a moment why the power seemed to be affecting Harry so vastly, but Ron remained untouched by it's affects. Didn't his father say that this would be a mutual thing? Ron didn't feel any different though.

He loved Harry, always would, no matter what happened. But he did not share the same attraction as Harry seemed to have.

"Listen, Harry." Ron prepared to reject Harry in the gentlest, nicest way possible. Though he was finding it very hard to do so when Harry looked so vulnerable. "I'm bisexual, and your gorgeous, and you know you mean the world to me, and I'll never see you any different, but-"

"Ron, please," Harry stopped him, sounding much more relaxed then before, "I know you don't feel the same," he couldn't understand why saying that out loud made it all the more painful. He didn't need to hear Ron reject him, he already knew that Ron didn't feel that way, had always known. "I don't need you to say it."

Ron frowned, there really was no way to reject someone painlessly was there? He swallowed, regret making him fester in his own self loathing. How could he do this to Harry? He would never forgive himself. He would just have to never use the power on Harry, or anyone else ever again. Not until he was good and married.

Ron still had a grip on Harry's shoulders, and the redhead was suprised when Harry didn't shrink from the contact. The boy usually avoided it as often as possible, preferring not to be touched much if not at all. But Harry seemed to sink into Ron's touch, and Ron felt a small flutter knowing he had to be very close to Harry's heart for the boy not to recoil at the intimacy of the contact.

He patted him and gave his shoulder a squeeze, "come one mate, join me for dinner. I'm sure Hermione is all alone and wondering where we are."

Harry nodded, also sure she would be glad to know that he wasn't avoiding their ginger friend anymore.

He figured this rejection was the best thing anyways, as badly as it stung. At least this way it would be easier to hide, and Ron would be in a little less danger. That was good. He could live with this.

That was fine.

As much as Harry heart screamed in protest, they agreed that they would continue to just be friends.

Ron promised that he would be sensitive to Harry's feelings, and not date anyone until Harry could get over it.

Harry tried to insist that Ron didn't need to do that. But Ron felt it was the least he could do after he forced Harry to feel this way.

He told Harry he was alright about it, that he didn't have an interest in anyone anyways.

Harry relented after a while, sure that if Ron met the right person, this promise he's making to him would mean nothing.

The thought of him ending up with someone else...

Harry wanted nothing more then to grab onto Ron, and never let go.

But he had to.

He had to keep Ron safe.

Even if it killed Harry inside.


End file.
